The White Devil
by Reinforce IV
Summary: The defeat was merely delayed. For the time after the war. When the Sons of Schwarzwind spillt their blood. No one wanted to believe. And when the truth dawned. It dawned in fire. But, there is one they fear. In their tongue... it is "Deivirkiin".
1. Those Years Ago

Commentary and Rant: Just a simple experimental piece of fiction here. And a part answer to the very horrible story of Soul Calibur V. Particularly, I'm pissed at the "bus boarding" of nearly half of the original cast. Goddamm. No other game has managed to piss me off THAT much. The other games didn't do any of this, yet the latest installment, which actually promised to be "the retelling of souls and swords" EPICALLY failed to deliver. Barely any extra content, no character profiles in game at ALL, and many new unexplained half-ass characters who look more like typical JRPG Final Fantasy crap than actual 1600 A.D. era characters. Fucking pathetic SCV. Just pathetic.

Welp, in response to this, I've created a story. The summary says all and I hope you do enjoy.

Summary: The defeat...was merely delayed. For the time after the Azure War and the Malfested... When the Sons of Schwarzwind would spill their own blood. But no one wanted to believe. Believe they even existed. And when the truth finally dawned. It dawns in fire. But... there is one they fear. In their tongue, it is 'Deivirkiin'. Devilborn!

Author Reinforce Vier presents...

An Elder Scrolls V Skyrim and Soul Calibur V influenced fiction...

* * *

><p><strong>The White Devil<strong>

Act I Part I - Those Years Ago...

* * *

><p>"So where did it all begin?"<p>

"Where? Well... I can't say much. But I guess it started when we were attacked by the Remnant..."

xvx

_A robed figure dismounted from the war steed, patting it firmly to calm down the heavy forest atmosphere currently plaguing the last shattered remnants. The cloaked walked up to another mount, silently whispering to ask a respite. A single glance to the suffering and moans of the dying souls opted no other choice but rest._

_A curt nod. The wave of a hand._

_Various unscratched figures went around, handing out precious water and stemming life flow as needed. Others still walked around; hands clasped with others and in deep transic prayer. Soft joints and lithe palms swept hot tears away, whether from pain or sorrow. Voices barked at another soul to hand out an instrument as needed, to save a broken life shattered and at world's end. And just as quietly, finger tips would close the deceased's lids forever to bid them ade._

_Taking the chance of respite, comrades murmured amongst themselves, some offering pity, some gossip, but many others more whispering what they had thought the impossible._

_Cautious gazes fleeted at a lone figure propped against the dead forest, knees drawn up and engaged in an increasingly palpable depression. The ratty faded blanket covered most of the form, hiding the expression from any prying eyes. The weapon once proudly wielded was now simply leaned against the hunched form, it's organic mass twitching in agony whether to comfort or leave. Uncertainty and a heavy unbearing loomed over the lone figure, unable to do anything but to replay the events over and over again until breaking point._

_Murmurs and whispers persisted, each one little more than gossip._

_But a little angel was watching over the fallen one with intent, studying and interpreting actions with fragility. With a calmed and stilled soul, it felt the many irregularities of the surroundings, the darkening depression just over head. It felt souls depart, lids close one last time, and a prayer for each love lost. Felt a loss that pained and left gaping holes within the souls and hearts of so many. Loss that could never be recovered from. Only the faint memories and smiles would persist to hurt._

_The white petals were in bloom today._

xvx

"They hated her, didn't they?"

"I have to admit, a lot of them were scared of her. Even nicknamed her "White Devil" because of her insane battle fervor. She was... just felt completely different than regular humans. But at the same time..."

"Funny how that works. There's always something strange that makes a being of power act so curious about us humans, so it adapts and becomes very human like itself."

"That is... an interesting way to put it yes, but it will do. She was very much like that."

"I see... and you?"

"Me? Heh, just a simple fool."

xvx

_He didn't know a lot of things._

_He did not know why he felt compelled to walk. He did not know why he glared spite and hatred to his friends. He did not fathom why his comrades whispered gossip and questions when it was a time to help each other out. He did not know why the angel was as she was, an emotional wreck and fallen purity. He did not know why the demon weapon she wielded helped her like a faithful husband in battle. He did not know why she preferred to be alone with just her weapon as her constant. He did not even know what compelled him to walk to the one so many dubbed "The White Devil"._

_"Ade mein leibe...Ade Edelweiss...Edelweiss..."_

_Glazed orbs gazed disheartenedly at the figure folded over the tattered blanket, the signature roman pink unable to be hidden. A sweet melancholic scent wafting the very air around them, it tried to mingle with the forest air, but failed to as it just simply stood out, much too wild for the milder forest to tame. Gentle sobs and hics racked the fragile frame, each one causing so much soul ripping pain from the inside. Breaking point was close and personal. He tried to open his lips to say something to the other, but another told him it was not the time. It would have to wait._

_He simply sat down beside the angel, gazing cautiously to get a closer look._

_It would have made anyone pained just by her tears alone._

_Her expression was contorted into a fine mess, the tears streaking and having stained a good bit of her face. Previously calm and loving lips now twisted into a lost love version of themselves, quivering and trembling to wonder what happened and to search for the lost again...only to fail once again. Her bone whites were ground and gnashed up against each other, almost to a breaking point as endless sorrow forced a particularly nasty grating sound to be issued. The blush on her cheeks burned just about red hot, flushed and drained from the emotion and turmoil moments before. Shattering sobs and hopeless hics become quieter and quieter, while her body started to tremble._

_He knew he had to do something._

_The soldier called out her name, softly and tenderly, even if it was to catch her attention._

_The angel could barely register a moan, her grip on the organic instinctively tightening as she vaguely recognized the voice by her side._

_He continued to call out her name, to reach out to her and take a weakened vulnerable body into arms and a heart. Roman pink swayed for a second, azure sweeping the brown mud earth in fumble, the twisted demon hellflesh of a mutated part straining and throbbing in mixed rage and confusion, laced with a heavy dose of sorrow as she questioned her fate._

_Her eyes widened as dark thoughts echoed the words screamed to her not too long ago, a heavy lidded exhausted gaze landing upon the mated body and demon grip._

_Was it...-_

_Ah...?_

_She gazed from her weapon to the man by her side, seeing through her pained tears and into a worried uncertainty. Half and half wanted to rip and tear, to relieve all the pain, to make it go away._

_The other half..._

xvx

"A split personality?"

"No no. She was nothing like that. Just...well, she just felt very alone I guess."

"Being the only woman wielding an evil sword in a group of gold digging all male mercs can do that to you."

"Just like how being the former royalty of a fallen kingdom can do the same?"

"Touche."

xvx

_"Hey..."_

_The crying woman only gave a weak whisper in response, her word of "Hello" barely even heard._

_The man cracked a gentle smile. He knew it was fake, but if it was to cheer up the most powerful and possibly insane member of their lucky band of mercenaries, he would do it. So he smiled even wider, almost borderline hammish. It was an insane stark contrast to the death, dying, and overall bad situation of their forces right now. Combat ineffective and having lost over thirty percent in their mission to rescue a single girl._

_But to the group, it was worth it._

_"Ne..."_

_He raised an eyebrow to the girl, fully knowing that, if his own love for story cliches were correct, she would go into a full blown monologue of self pity and depressive topics of questioning her existence._

_"Why... do I exist?"_

_In which he was proved right._

_With that, he merely took a seat next to the young girl, leaning towards her ever so slightly so that she wouldn't be able to notice. Not that it actually helped, since the ever powerful demon's sword was practically right next to her like a loyal attack dog ready to go into "godless killing machine mode" at a moment's notice to anybody that ever remotely threatened it's master. Speaking said sword..._

xvx

"Hmm... you said you had the accursed Soul Edge in your ranks, did you not?"

"Yeah, we actually did. Now that I look back at it, I guess it was just a defective fragment of the sword which became reliant on it's former host. Namely her."

"I'm surprised it didn't start murdering everyone in sight. As soon as it accepted the host that is."

"Yeah, I know it's supposed to be the "Sword of the Gods" and be completely evil and stuff, but for some odd reason, it wasn't outright insanely evil when she had it in her hands. Just more weird unexplainable stuff of the White Devil, I guess."

"Interesting."

"Certainly was very trollish however..."

xvx

_He wasn't too fond of the "Sword of the Gods" just like everyone else, but if there was any consolence, it had finally stopped it roaring rampage of revenge and for the evulz killing. That still did not mean it wasn't violent however. And, just as they had painfully discovered, people were still after it. Which it's current master, the girl who just simply wanted adventure with a band of gold plundering mercs, was empathetically linked it. Which had lead it to somehow impossibly creating an entirely new personality which was more or less along the lines of "trolling prankster". If that made ANY sense._

_But despite that, it was empathetically linked to it's host, which meant it would be able to read her emotions._

_'Now look here my good ma-'_

_**[I don't wanna talk to you no more, you empty headed animal food trough water-]**_

_So far, it was being very uncooperative._

_**[. . .I FUS in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!]**_

_What...?_

_'Is there something else I can try?' he mentally inquired the sword._

_To which it retorted,** [No! Now go away or I shall FUS you a second time.]**_

_Well, so much for that._

_Regarding their precious second in command, who had gone from nobody to nightmare, it was best for her to continue her now rage rant against the heavens._

_"...if this stupid sword is the "Sword of the Gods" as so many claim, then why the fuck haven't I done anything good with this thing? How come only death and destruction and misery come to all of us in the LAH ever since I picked it up?"_

_He gave no response, patiently waiting for her to vent._

_"Are you even listening, dammit? Just why the hell does Soul Edge even exist anymore and of all people, it chose me as it's wielder! I thought it was supposed to have been destroyed years ago!"_

_The White Devil then focused her rage glare to the rusty zweihander in her hands, gripping it as tightly as she could to break it. As if she could suffocate it out._

_"And you!"_

_The girl then rounded upon the weapon itself, glaring the fires of hell itself straight into it's eye. It only glared back, an equal intense rage burning in it's colors, rivaling the sun. She opened her frowning lips to rage shout upon her weapon, but was silenced by equally angered organic tentacles filling her entire mouth...in a rather silly attempt and it's only way to silence a human being. Being a living weapon had it's disadvantages and having no hands was one of them. The master only did something which probably would have made sense if she was under imminent rape, but at the same time, it made sense in context._

_The girl bit into Edge's organic tentacles and sent out gushers of blood spraying all over into her mouth and face. The sword recoiled it's only weapons to defend itself with as it's master lept upon top of the rusty weapon, sitting on it with her full weight to prevent it from floating via applied magic. The girl reared back an arm and swung with full force at her target._

_A crack rang out as The White Devil broke her arm from sheer force of impact alone._

_The cursed sword gave out a very unmanly cry as it's eye was punched out._

xvx

"They fought like that?"

"Yes. They often did. Arguments, bickering, even violent fights at times. But since they were bonded to each other, they had to make up. Most of the boys thought it was rather hilarious to see Soul Edge and a girl of all people, argue like two teens."

"Imagine that. An all powerful sword reduced to a girl's play toy. Oh how the mighty have fallen."

"Indeed. It was surreal at times how the sword would act so human. All the while it claimed to hate humans and be nothing like them. Hubris really."

"Hubris indeed."

. . . . . .

"I remember when she had to be hugged."

"You hugged the Devil? The White fucking Devil? Who owned Soul Edge?"

"No. But I remember it clearly."

xvx

_"Wha-"_

_The White Devil suddenly felt herself become wrapped in a strong wall of warmth as a pair of steeled arms pulled her broken exhausted body into a hug. Her eyes widened in confusion, rage forgotten at once, an odd sensation sweeping itself into her cold body, filling it with a sudden and very unexpected sense of comfort._

_"H-Huh...?" was her only reaction._

_He gave a gentle smile as he held the White Devil in his arms, seeking to calm her troubled soul back to docile levels. He opened his lips to speak to her, from one comrade to another._

_"Listen to me. I know this is exactly like one of those stupid fairytale cliches where the hero comforts the girl and they most likely elope right after kissing or some shit like that, but gods... this wreck isn't you."_

_The man gave the dumbstruck girl a tight reassuring squeeze before continuing on._

_"The White Devil I know is..."_

xvx

"A few words to describe her? Well it's been a while but from what I remember, she was valiant, honest, courageous, steadfast. Never gave up either, even if a mission was suicide. She followed the code as best she could and always placed her friends above her own being. Cute as a button too."

"You don't say?"

"Yeah, I'd know she'd probably kill me for this but...she had really nice breasts."

"Ahahahaha! I know I would kill you for that one, I'm a woman myself."

"Well yeah, suits me right. But I suppose you could say... she was like a daughter to all of us really. And at times, a mother."

"A mother? A young girl like her...?"

"Yes. Sometimes, she would have this "wise beyond their years" thing going on. But since she was a leader, I assume it was only natural for her. As it was for you."

"Indeed and I still am."

xvx

_"Misuzu, are you alright?" a sudden warm motherly voice spoke with concern._

_The young child nodded her head, grinning with a super blush upon her cheeks._

_"Ahaha~. Mhm. I'm 'kay mama!"_

_A soft smile graced the elder's features, holding out a hand to heed her cute child._

_"Okay, but please be careful when you run Misuzu."_

_Said running child gave a hum of approval before she felt flat on her face not two seconds later._

_"Wah!"_

_The elder woman clutched a hand to her chest, grasp tightening around the shawl she always wore in her journeys. Her expression soured a little and froze, dumbstruck, before she realized-_

_"G-Gao."_

_Oh. Her child had fell._

_Not a second later, the elder woman ran up to Misuzu and swept her against her bosom, stroking her faded blonde hair as she whispered words of encouragement to the younger._

xvx

"Ah. So she had a child?"

"No. The Devil adopted her as her own. A... guardian of sorts."

"And what of Soul Edge? What did he think of this?"

"The sword didn't think much of it at all. It just simply accepted it as another "human" thing really."

"And the White Devil?"

"She played the role of a mother perfectly. It was surreal. One of the unit members asked her once if she ever had sex or gotten pregnant out of pure curiosity. Because, you know, White Devil equal mother?"

"What was her answer?"

xvx

_"No."_

_"H-Huh...?"_

_The young woman gently set the blade of Soul Edge aside for the moment, choosing to gaze at the young man who had dared to ask. She upturned her eyes to the sky in a small shallow thought, trying to recollect if her body ever had a passionate encounter. Feeling absolutely nothing within her heart or mind, she gave her words again._

_"I never had sex before, Ober-schtuze. Ever."_

_"B-But...your body! Any man would kill for that! I'm sure you've gotten laid quite a few times before picking up that cursed sword. Hell, I'm even sure you have gotten laid by a few of our me-"_

_"Ober-schtuze!"_

_The voice was a dangerous low hiss, a sure sign that the dark evil within her was about to be unleashed. She put down the rag she was using previously to clean her weapon, sitting her body up to standing as she pushed from the table. Her head was hung low and the fire beside the encampment only served to illuminate her figure. Her feet slowly stomped the way towards the poor soldier as her own body stiffened as it shook in unstoppable rage. A booted foot stopped advancing as soon as her gaze stared dispassionately upon the now quaking soldier's face._

_The White Devil was here._

xvx

"I hope she didn't kill the poor guy. Whoever he was."

"Hahaha! Nah, she didn't. Just ordered Soul Edge to wrap him up in a "sleeping bag" of sorts. Dear lords..."

"Wait... isn't Soul Edge tentacle flesh growth based?"

"Yep. You can only imagine how that turned out."

"Ick. I shudder at that very thought."

"Oh you have no id-"

"Sir! Schwarzwind is requesting that you report in!"

"Noted Private. Tell the Commander I will be there in about five minutes."

"Yes sir!"

"Ah, I'm sorry for the interruption, sire. Now... where were we?"

"Something about the White Devil and her body?"

"Ah yes. About that... I'll be blunt about it. The White Devil was strong. So strong that entire brigades would actually surrender to us out of fear. But her health... it was extremely weak."

"Oh? How weak?"

"So weak that despite her power, she could easily die from a stupid cold."

"I suspect there is more to this?"

"She... caught a bad case in the dead of winter. Most of the unit were tough guys and handled the cold fine. But the Devil..."

"Why didn't you do that then? Let a disease take her so it could take Soul Edge?"

"A lot of the unit considered it but... ultimately, a lot more cared for her than we had originally thought. She was just too valuable to lose. Also, since she seemed to be controlling Soul Edge, instead of the other way around, it was a huge plus for us. She also was the most human out of all the other victims. What I have heard from the Commander and you... Edge's victims didn't get so pretty. Mentally nor physically."

"That is correct. The Commander himself was the main host for a good number of years in fact. He is still unwilling to talk about it, but from what he told me, it was not pleasant at all."

"I know the symptoms. But the White Devil had none of them."

"Ah? Please, do tell."

"The White Devil actually stayed human through-out. Her arm never mutated into a claw, nor did any black markings appear or her clothing change color. And mentally, she was completely fine. In battle, she would become very unhinged and pretty much execute every single downed enemy she could, but to the Devil and Soul Edge, that simple blood lust for a curb stomp battle was enough. The White Devil nor Soul Edge ever even touched us in hate or anger. But that restraint came at a cost."

"Her weak health. Soul Edge was literally sucking her health away."

"Bingo."

"So why didn't you separate her from the cursed blade?"

"There were... complications."

xvx

_The girl coughed violently, her lungs spasming as parts of her body lost all sense of control, losing to the high fever it was fighting against. A rusty wheeze was rattled out from her very core and she coughed out a small amount of blood onto her blanket. A pitiful moan was elicited as her pained throbbing limbs twitched as they tried to move. She only succeeded in making the pain worsen and rack her small frame under the ratty blanket which covered her body._

_A warm damp towel patted her forehead free of sweat, a worn out rough hand gently parting away her matted locks of hair from her eyes. Fingers interlaced with a sickened one's and lovingly squeezed to give a small sense of reassurance._

_"Meister..."_

_A calm sea of blue weakly gazed back into a blazing red, the light flickeringly weak. It made the burning soul worry itself sick as it could do nothing but pray to whatever gods believed in and wish for the betterment of a weak shell's health._

_"...I...I..."_

_A gentle finger was pressed upon chaste lips, hushing a weak voice from speaking to save precious strength. The interlaced fingers squeezed once more as the free hand started to remove enclosed layers, peeling it away from the drenched overheated flesh to reveal the Devil's smooth perfect curves._

_"A-Ah..."_

_The warm damp towel was laid flat over her stomach, rising and falling weakly with each strained breath she took. The fresh bandages wrapped around her chest and waist tightened as well, but that was a small discomfort compared to the extreme loss of fluids and exposure her body had experienced._

_As if reading her body, a free hand grasped and lifted a cup to her battered lips, pouring precious life water into her parched self. The White Devil drank deeply from the cup, emptying it of it's contents in but a few seconds. She gave a small weak gasp as her back arched in pain at the spasms inside her overheated critical body._

_But despite this, she maintained her calm gaze to the troubled stare of her partner. She gave a weak smile and could barely squeeze the interlocked fingers which her partner held._

_They squeezed back._

xvx

"I never saw the two of them argue again after that. The Devil had almost died in that incident and it hit the group hard. We started to become a lot closer and fought more as an organized unit than a merry band of gold diggers."

"And I suppose it somehow affected Edge as well?"

"In a way it did. It's personality changed to conform to her will. They both started to fight much better and faster, making cleaner and professional kills. The White Devil was no longer as mad or psychotic as before and she even started to spare her surrendered foes. Before we knew it, she ironically had become like your commander, Seigfried Schtauffen, had become with Soul Calibur. Only difference is, from what you've told me, Calibur was just as much as an extremist as Soul Edge was, if not more, by the end. How ironic that Edge would become the sword of justice and Calibur the sword of destruction."

"Indeed. It's funny and sad in a way. But now, both swords are forever gone."

"And with it, the White Devil as well..."

"I thought she had retired or something?"

"You heard wrong, Princess. The White Devil...she-"

The crash of an explosion suddenly caught their attention. Not a moment later, panicked cries and shouts of orders had set in, screams and yells of pain, death and destruction. The two immediately forgot about the tale of the years long past and rushed outside to see what was going on.

Their answer was that of a flying thing slamming on top of one their soldiers and ripping his body apart. It gave a mighty ear piercing roar, deafening and stunning everyone within the immediate area. Before they could get a good look at it, the thing lifted off and put a burst of speed in a single swoop, leaving an after trail of a mild shock wave as a last laugh. Before they even had a chance to counter attack, most of the camp had been utterly destroyed. Fires and small craters had been left in the thing's wake and now, the orders were to help the survivors and rebuild camp.

Hildegard von Krone gave a grimace as she sprinted into action, removing burning support beams and stone mortars off pinned down soldiers as she barked out orders to hand out water to douse the fires threatening to burn down their encampment. But in reality, her mind was somewhere else...

"Leibe!"

The man known as Seigfried Schtauffen looked back to see his wife running towards him. Immediately, he knew what was on the forefront of her mind. The man opened his arms to reveal the two children to be safe and sound, albeit a little shell shocked. Almost instantly, they reached out to her. And just as they reached out, Hilde ran into her husband's arms to enclose their family in a tight embrace, relieved they were alright.

However, the other who had run out with her could only stare off into the darkened skies. This destruction. This amount of destruction in such a short time...

He whispered a name only known to him, lost to history and the legends.

"...Are you... still out there?"

xvx

Ende of Act I

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><p>Closing Notes: Well here is it. The first part of my experimental Soul Calibur fiction, formerly "Tales of the Cursed Sword" in rough. The release of Soul Calibur V inspired me to write again for my original Project and this time, since the "17 years later" part kind of invalidated everything I saw Soul Calibur IV as... Yep. I honestly felt I was watching some bad incestic love story. Seriously. Just... bleugh.<p>

Oh and for those of you wondering why Soul Edge is more or less a "good" guy in this, it's simple. Why doesn't Maxi or Mitsurugi go batshit insane despite them (probably) having two or three shards of the evil sword in their bodies? For like what? Two decades? You'd think their minds would go insane or their bodies would turn from the inside out because of those shards...


	2. The Devilborn Comes

Commentary: The Legend of the Dragonborn...

* * *

><p><strong>The White Devil<strong>

Act I Part II: The Devilborn Comes

* * *

><p>"<em>Our hero, our hero claims a warrior`s heart.<em>"

Eyes opened to a dead end once again, staring down at the old abandoned ravine which had been cracked and snowed over multiple times during those years. Vaguely, the memories of hellfire and destruction came to the forefront of an exhausted mind. It remembered how cold everything had been at first, and then, when the end of the road had come, everything was filled with a loving warmth. Remembered that, despite the cracks and fragments, it would put itself back together again as once more whole.

The fact that it lived once again, in knowing hands, was proof of that promise.

"_I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes._"

Currently, it was close. The wonderful smell and scarcely felt warmth of civilization was all that was needed for a worn body to push on. Frozen hands tightly gripped the handle in a self encouraging squeeze, which had been far too neglected in a rightful owner's grasp for far too long. Boots, which had long since frozen over, cracked as legs took steps forward. One step at a time.

Two decades. Unmoving for two decades.

"_With a voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art._"

Frozen vocal cords spoke in an unknown language, bare breaths coming out in iced chills as the dry freezing air sucked out reserve air from parched lungs like a vacuum. Balance was lost as the half frozen shell stumbled along the path, hands reaching out to brace to maintain balance or perhaps to soften the impact of a fall. But the side of an arch reset and the body regained balance, hands gripping the shaft of an ancient weapon to support the entire dead weight. Bone whites grit in pain as an old wound threatened to reopen.

It had felt more like a millennia.

"_Believe believe, the Dragonborn comes._"

It didn't know how or what had happened. The seasons had been felt passing, that was all which was known. Had felt the bitter cold of winter- snow which had followed it, the damp miserable rains of autumn and the leaves that gently drifted right after. The soft warmth of a bright spring, flowers in bloom. Blazing sweltering heat of summer, as grass and plants would pollinate the area, winds scattering them about. Then autumn would come, the last happy times remembered before the dead winter reset the cycle all over again.

A worn mind wondered if that cycle was repeating once more.

"_Its an end to the evil of all Blackwind's foes._"

Evil. Both had felt it, heart and soul. It ensnared the heart, stabbing and making it bleed pure unadultered pain. Intoxicated a weary mind, whispering and promising glory and power. Chaos and destruction awaited no one. Peace was about to be disturbed once more. A rusty soul awoke to see mass oppression and injustice in the name of justice. Jumping at the call, what once was thought to be dead, now awakened to take up arms once more.

To end everything once again.

"_Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes._"

The bells were to ring once more in warning. To warn innocent and guilty souls alike to beware. To seek shelter and pray to their Gods to save them. To save them against the impending evil which was coming. Ever since those armies years ago had stopped a raging soul for nearly twenty years. The scrolls had told of the return.

Defeat was a mere delay.

"_For the darkness has passed and the legend yet grows_."

It was a newer younger time. Everything had changed and yet nothing was warned. The rumors of the professionals had died off, but the legend of the devil still had grown. Legend of a single soul who had possessed evil itself and used it as a partner in battle. Liberated towns had remembered fondly of the legend, treating it with affection and love. Enemies feared it, thus had labeled it and sought to destroy. For a time, darkness had spread and covered the entire land. But the legend had banished it those years ago, at the price of ultimate sacrifice.

The legend was alive once more.

"_You'll know, you'll know, the Dragonborn's come_."

A foot stepped forth to confront two watchmen guarding the gate. Frosted over thinned locks of hair brushed upon a dead stare, staring forward in a cold impersonal glare. Head down to hide the expression upon a frozen face, a well worn hand squeezed the iced over hilt of the sword tightly.

The icy prison was broken, the sword erupted with it's red tentacles once more. Automatically, the threads rapidly pierced the flesh of the figure's weapon arm, spraying long since chilled blood upon the snow. The frail body only shivered as it was invaded by countless spirits, the hallmark of the weapon said to be dead. Demonic power flowed from the sword into it's wielder, empowering the body with a raging heat which instantly flash vaporized the entire prison of ice inside and upon the body. Closed eyes slowly opened to see the deathly white snow falling from the darkened skies, the gates of an untouched military outpost just in front. Already, the guards had fled, screaming unintelligibles into the air. The bells now tolled. People, poor farmers and their families, women and children, ran in a mass panic. Shouts of the garrisoned Landsknecht echoed in the distance as they scrambled to intercept the threat. Anybody could tell they suffered from a severe lack of training, neglect due to the harsh climate and distance of this dead land.

They would not stand a chance.

A reborn hand squeezed the demon's handle tightly, worn lips smiling softly and eyes lidding in affection.

"It's been a long time, partner."

* * *

><p>Closing Notes: Yes. I tried to give it a very "TES V Skyrim" like feel to it. I'm not too sure if I was successful at it, but overall, I'm rather happy with this chapter. The English rendition of the "Dragonborn Comes" bard song is sung by Youtube user "malufenix", used in the Live Action "TES V Skyrim" trailer. It's absolutely wonderful and I had fun listening to it while I wrote this chapter. And for those of you wondering what a "Landsknecht" is, they are the German mercenaries of the 16th-17th Century, right around the time the Soul Calibur series takes place in. I intend to make heavy use of actual 17th Century events, places, and things, but I am not too familiar with them, so any help is appreciated. Thanks and please do leave a review.<p>

Beware beware, the Devilborn's come...


	3. Rebirth

Notes: Third chapter in. This is where everything begins.

Summary: Seeking answers to each of their wanderings, every veteran soul now sets off to find their paths shall cross each other's once more. And in the very core of a wanderer, the memories of an age past continue to whisper into her ear.

* * *

><p><strong>The White Devil<strong>

Act I Part III: Rebirth

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><p>Pyrrha knew that she was having an unpleasant dream as soon as the vague burn of her permanently malfested arm was felt. But unlike all the other pains, this was different. While the others had been either continuous to the point of wanting to rip her own limb off, or rhythmically intense like an unnatural second heart, this one wasn't painful at all. In fact, she would daresay that it was actually pleasant. Alluring to the point it felt absolutely natural. Very much unlike the overwhelming desperateness she had felt when the evil sword had promised that she would never be alone.<p>

But that still did not brush aside the fact this burn was exactly it.

She saw the bright flash of white wash over her vision and for a second, she thought that it would be prelude to everything she had hatred over the past five years as the evil's servant. No. She refused the call. She would never be taken by it ever again. Her brother and she had made sure of it. They had both destroyed both evils. Physically witnessed it with their own eyes and had even felt it.

So. . . why once again?

It couldn't be happening again, could it?

The light was dying down to a more manageable level, although it was still searing bright. Risking a peek, she slightly uncovered her eyes to see through the slits of her fingers. Her teal green colors saw the backside of a human figure.

The braided hair and bow Pyrrha instantly recognized.

'_M-Mother...?_'

And then, Pyrrha awoke to see the stone ceiling above her. Woken up in a cold sweat, she bolted upright from the bed of her home, placing her good hand against her now damp forehead. Heart pounding and completely numb, the young adult refocused her short gasps back into regular even breaths as she tried to calm herself. Mind racing like the Winged Messenger himself, she tried to make sense of her vision. Having come to no conclusion, she chose to now stare at her malfested arm in foreboding.

Her gaze trailed from her claws to the faintly glowing core her wrist held, to the armored shell which looked more like rotten sinews of muscle than an actual shell, and finally to the roots which trailed across her collarbone and right breast. Previously, in her younger days, she would have hidden it in shame. But time had changed her and she found it to be especially useful in physical tasks. She remembered how one of the children had asked her if "they would ever get a cool super powerful arm" like hers.

How she envied their normality.

"Pyrrha?"

Her aunt's voice snapped her out of the wandering thoughts as she moved her head to gaze upon her. The expression Cassandra had was one of foreboding worry, as if an old wound had reopened. Just coming around the corner was her dear brother, Patroklos. Despite his apparent grogginess, the look on his face was that of a grave one. The same as her aunt's. One glance was all that was needed to confirm her thoughts.

"You felt it too?"

A single nod.

Pyrrha smiled softly, the crestfallen expression etched on her face and the slivers of warm moonlight only serving to cast her body as that of a fallen angel. Her gaze darted to the mutated arm of hers, gazing at it in dark contemplation as she absently wondered why back then, she had given in to the evil power sealed within her. Seeking no answer, her moonlit casted eyes glanced over to the weapons her family had once proudly wielded.

It had begun once again.

xvx

"Alright Schwarzwind Landsknecht, move out!"

The proud mercenary unit, famously known throughout Europe as "Blackwind", marched through out the now cheering town as they were sought off. All of the populace had lined up to give the mercenaries bouquets of flowers and homemade chocolates, even silver crosses to ward off any evil which would encounter them upon their journey. The fanfare blared out as the column marched slowly through the street, in a triumphant display of good wishes. All of the knights had polished and now walked out in their cleanest untouched parade armor, the golden colors and griffin of the Kingdom of Hungary held high. Beside that, was the red and silver of the old Wolfskrone Kingdom, now slowly returning to it's former glory.

Hilde von Krone smiled softly as her husband, Seigfried Schtauffen, lead the parade with an air of absolute confidence and dignity. A lot had changed within two decades, and even more so within the two years after both Soul Edge and Calibur had been destroyed. The Malfested witch hunts had stopped entirely, by the executive orders of Emperor Rudolf II . Her former kingdom, was given massive military support within a year to help defeat the dark armies which had formerly plagued it nook and cranny. The Kingdom of Hungary's military forces, with Schwarzwind leading the way under the colors of the silver wolf and red banner, had taken the capital within a week. By the time the shattered leadership of Soul Edge's army had sued for peace and tried to make deals, it was too late. Wolfskrone had been recaptured and it was only fitting that Hilde was the first one to raise the colors over her land once more.

The jingle of a tri-color cord focused her attention.

"Oh. Hello Meyo."

The man named Meyo gave a grin and quipped, "Yo Wolfie."

Hilde couldn't help but laugh at the old term. "Oh stop it, Meyo. We aren't enemies anymore."

Meyo's grin never faltered. "Nope, but why not, you know? For old times sake?"

Hilde reflected as she remembered her proud kingdom falling apart those years ago and she remembered the black and white palettes of the 25th.

Her most worthy opponents to date.

The remaining members of the former elite 25th Leybsgvardiya had been assimilated into the Schwarzwind's rank and file following their disbandment, but allowed to keep their colors and equipment. Twenty years ago, the "LAH" as they called themselves proudly, had fought to the last in a wretched mountain pass near the Wolfskrone's border. Hilde remembered the massive causalities of both sides in such short time. The last remnants of both the Wolfskrone and the 25th had fought there, each shattering the other in all out slugging matches. It had been such a horrid battle and the end of the 25th as an operational unit. The Wolfskrone's main army had also perished, the most elite Division having fallen victim to the unknown. As a result, the Wolfskrone had been left vulnerable to other enemies and soon fell.

All leading to a massive waste of human life.

Now, twenty two years later and Meyo, the only survivor of the 25th Leybsgvardiya's 108th Division, was now firmly the acting Serzhant of Schwarzwind.

"Hey Hilde..." Meyo remarked, the soft trailing off his sign of painful memories. Hilde noticed the man was casting his gaze off into the blue sky, as if he could see into the heavens themselves.

"You think... she would have loved this too?"

The woman didn't know much of Meyo's old unit personally. In fact, she had no idea whom he was talking about right now. But if they were anything like the old hand of the Wolfskrone, the 25th had been extremely close and loyal to one another. She knew how a soldier lived and it was a painful sad life covered up by the fanfare and glory. Nobody wanted to see the massive bloodshed nor the loss of comrades in the field. While her husband and she had been forged by two living swords clashing against each other to determine the fate of the world, Meyo and she had been brought together by the life and death of the soldier.

They both were two comrades of opposite sides, forged in pointless blood.

Hilde von Krone gave Meyo a sad smile, patting his back in empathy.

"I'm sure they all would have."

xvx

"Alright then..."

Patroklos returned the embrace his aunt had given him in kind. The young man gave a smile which would have been lady killer, if it only weren't for the mission that his elder sister and he were to undertake.

A mission which was very likely to end up with both of them dead.

"Trust me, Aunt Cass. Pyrrha and I will be fine. If you've faced two evil swords before, then we can as well."

Cassandra gave a grunt of protest, furrowing her eyebrows.

"But it's just Soul Edge this time! And Calibur isn't around to stop it!"

Patroklos only could give his beloved aunt a squeeze of hands to reassure her. He knew it wasn't enough to disspell her worries, but at the very least, he could try.

"I know, Aunt."

The former adventurer was silent for a moment, downcasting her face so her bangs hid her worried sick expression. For what seemed ages, she just simply stood unmoving, unable to let go to the only family she had.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

And with that, the veteran let go of the only connection she had to her deceased sister once more. She watched as her niece walked away, waving a goodbye to her for what perhaps could be the last time. As if he could sense her pain, Patroklos gave his trademark lion smile he had always done when he had been just a child.

Cassandra Alexandria gave a pained smile back to him, believing they would both return home safe and sound.

"May your mother's spirit protect you both..."

xvx

"Thank you for doin' business with ye. Si's there anythin'z else I may get you?"

A kindred nod of an unseen head, the sly smile barely visible under the hood. Gloved hands, the right covered in slate black with the other a more visible parade white, took the mug of mead which had been brought fairly. Bringing the mug to unseen lips, it held for a second as the figure took a sip to sample it's taste. Bitterness and hints of grain honey seeped into weariness, bringing a long since dead senses and body slightly back to life. Roman pink lips upturned as the bitter after taste lingered inside a mouth.

Perhaps something more solid would do.

"Sure," spoke the voice, clearly a strained raspy female voice. Maybe it had a virus that her body was fighting against. "I'd like to have spetzel and gulash, please."

The barmaid smiled, obviously impressed with the girl's choice. "Ah!" She gave a clap of approval. "One of the finest. A bit pricey but I promise ya girl. Ours is the best in the Kingdom!" Quickly, she scrawled down the order and gave a small courtesy, stepping back to leave the other to her lonesomes. But before she could, the girl gave a noise to rapt attention.

"Yes?"

Just as she was about to open her lips, she immediately caught herself as she remembered the reports her wandering mind read yesterday. The "Avisa Relation oder Zeitung" had talked the return of a nightmare that returned from the dead once more to wreck hell upon innocents and devour any that stood in it's path. Sure, the sightings were unconfirmed but in a world where living swords seemed to create Ragnorak quite regularly, the paranoid was very well justified.

Perhaps it wasn't so wise to crack a joke.

"I'll also have a side dish of bread and hot milk please."

The barmaid gave a cheery "okay" as she resumed walking off to the kitchen to complete another order of the day.

The hooded girl slumped her body forward against the table, mentally slapping herself for almost blowing it. The oversized sleeves of the anorak worn did well to hide her features in shame as she now proceeded to act like a far from normal drunk who drowned their sorrows.

Especially since she didn't know why.

Wallowing in her slight depression, she lifted her head and brung the ends of her blonde braided hair, tied with a white ribbon, to the front of her vision. Just for a moment, she swore she could see her old natural hair colors within the mass of dirty blonde. Continuing to gaze at the ends, a free hand took the white ribbon in a gentle grip as an afterthought.

She frowned.

Had it really been already two years?

Giving a sigh, she took a took glance to her unique weapon. A splinter pattern painted zweihander which had been wrapped up with bandages to hold it's blade together. It looked ungainly and was scuffed from years of usage, but it had never failed her in a fight. She remembered how it looked brand new, the golden engravement and blue core adorning the center of the blade making it look shine polished. Worthy enough to be used in any military parade. Now, age was taking it's toll upon the once proud weapon. What once had been a burning light in the darkness, was now dull and covered with spare bandages from years of abuse and use. A far cry from it's original forged issue.

But she was sure he wouldn't mind.

"Cheers love," the girl murmured to the weapon as she drank in the bitter taste once more.

xvx

Sitting on top of one of the many roofs of this populated hamlet, pale green lips upturned in a wicked smile as she sensed- no, felt, the very allure of an old master reborn once again.

But at the same time, she frowned.

Something was wrong. It felt so similar but at the same time, it was completely different. The burn... it was not a burn anymore. There were no voices in her head ordering her to kill and capture more souls for it to take. No arrogance nor the proud laughter of utter victory. Not even a chuckle of disapproval or hate.

It was warm. Like the natural human emotion of love.

Sick.

It called, but at the same time, it was as if it claimed a new host. But now, the roles had been reversed and the sword was now the servant and the wielder it's master. There were no insane massacres, no burning of entire cities, no mass graves. No darkness. No fires. No blood. No death.

There was a simple warmth and trust. Human. All too human.

Unforgivable. Unforgivable. UNFORGIVABLE!

This would have to change.

Those sickly pale lips curled into a smirk.

Whomever had Soul Edge this time was going to suffer a thousand deaths over. And have their own soul eaten by the weapon himself. Whatever it would take, she would make sure the current "master" suffered and shattered before taking their soul in tatters. And even if this... different Soul Edge did not want any of it, she would MAKE it do it anyways.

It was inevitable as all fell before it's blade.

xvx

Siegfried Schtauffen gave a grim nod to one of his junior officers upon the question asked. It didn't take much but everyone in Schwarzwind and the newly reformed Wolfskrone Vanguard 3rd Detachment knew it. They all had marched out proudly just hours ago in perhaps would be their last time. Already, wills for the deceased and prayers for the gods were being passed around, regardless of difference. Swastika rosaries for the Buddhists and Daoists, silver crosses for the Christians, and prayers toward the sun for the Muslims. One group even did each other's rituals to bless themselves thrice.

But Siegfried knew it wouldn't help them in the slightest. The evil had awoken and while there was nothing to report about it's rampages, he knew it was only a matter of time. He personally knew how evil and insanely powerful the weapon was. It wouldn't be settled with his unit of Landsknecht, no matter how professional and powerful they were now, alone. They needed the help and strength of two of the only people who had ever successfully destroyed both weapons at the same time.

"Captain."

Iron greaves raised in a salute against the chest. "Yes sir?"

"Head toward the Ottoman Empire immediately."

The officer gave another salute, complying as he immediately barked the order down the line. Already, the well defended caravan was starting to quickly move out. Siegfried could only furrow his eyebrows in deep contemplation as he studied their situation, calmly waiting for the sword to make it's move. He barely noticed his wife, Major Hilde, had placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder to let him know he was not alone. Deciding that thinking about it even now would do nothing but worry him sick, Siegfried chose to take his wife's hands in his and squeeze.

The storm had come and this time, there was no holy sword to stop it.

xvx

She remembered the long dream which had plagued her memories, but failed to recall events. Failed to recall images or any recognizable faces. All she remembered was the terrifying numbness and pain which had blinded her from so many years. Nothing but bodies, blood, and the white death from constant warfare. If it had not been for her enhanced senses, she would have failed to notice her right eye burned to the point of blindness and left leg throbbed with pain and suddenly went numb. She felt the mass of explosions erupt all around her over and over again, relentless as they racked her mind and body with delirious pain. And as soon as it had tortured her with it's start, it ended just as well. Leaving her lost, alone, confused, and bitter.

Her blurry vision just caught sight of her now torn hand, cracks and holes marring it's appearance.

I . . . . blo . . my. . . s. .w-. . . r. .

Silently, she let the bliss of unconsciousness embrace her exhausted body as she passed out.

xvx

Closing Notes: Now that I've read over "TES V Skyrim" plotline just to remind myself, I fully expect my Project to be a very lengthy story indeed. Reading through other original doujins has also helped me formulate a general idea to where this story is now headed. And oh boy, do I have ideas for this one... Brace yourself, people. It's going to be one hell of a ride.

Also, I've noticed that I'm getting a ton of hits but no favorites or reviews at all. Well, I have said it before and I will say it again. Please do kindly leave a review to help me out or just let me know if you like the story or not. It's insanely depressing for me to have readers but no feedback whatsoever, only to see another story has barely three chapters and they already have five or more reviews. As a writer who truly does care for each and every character written, it's depressing to see that. Understand right? Okay, thanks.


	4. Usual Days

Notes: Fourth. A strictly single character perspective this time around. Oh and if you experience a sudden unexpected genre shift, don't worry. That's normal too. Time for an epic failure of an attempt at a romantic comedy chapter. Hurr durr.

Summary: Fate calls and it has usual days in it's wake.

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><p><strong>The White Devil<strong>

_Act I Part IV: Usual Days_

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><p>"Mhm...ngh..."<p>

A sliver of light cast itself upon a soft face. Lids closed peacefully in slumber took note of the powerful source as the expression soured momentarily. The instinctive shift of flesh and bone alleviated the discomfort as cool darkness found itself back into it's rightful place. Strands of pale gold fell against the face, tickling just enough to deprive an exhausted mind and body from the peaceful dark. Thinned cracked lips parted as air was expelled lazily to clear the strands from the field, only to no avail. Trying to secure a better position, a single lithe arm snaked across a burning warmth. It felt welcoming as the pleasant warmth toned down the freezing cold felt, the slick organic threads crawling up the length of-

Oh.

Red lenses opened to see a mass of red practically next to warm supple flesh, a failed stifle yawn as the bare back arched and stretched the extremities of worn out body to restart the blood flow. Bringing the upper half to a sitting position, a rather warm blush found it's way to cold cheeks.

And the lady killer grin plastered itself upon a dopey face.

A girlish giggle escaped from an unexplainable sore throat as hands brung up the covers to an ample chest, a raging heart pumping hard against the unbreakable bone of an enhanced ribcage. For a few scant seconds, clasped hands pressed up against the raging heart, feeling strength and vigor flow into and spread it's all encompassing roots into deep flesh, giving a previously weak body the blood of a sword.

Damn it was good to be alive.

Noticing another form beside it's own, a free hand brushed back tresses of messy locks as the spine lowered the head to come closer. Healthy roman pink lips upturned into a gentle loving smile and whispered into a ear,

"So. . . you want go another round?"

Vermillion red hair whipped around as the female's red eyes caught sight of the man's triumphant expression, smiling like a million golds. Or rather, it was the familarity of his face.

"Oh yeah! Let's do it again, baby!"

The girl froze upon the spot, all notions of previous warmth now sucked from her body and into the darkest descent of the abyss to be turned into a world eating blackhole and shatter upon the heat death of the entire universe and astral dimensions. And it would have happened too, if she remembered how to even move.

"F-. . . .Fu. . .weh . . . ?"

The young man could only give a blank stare. He double took once as he blinked to confirm what his eyes were seeing. White sheets, soft warm flesh, and sudden embarrassment at the realization.

Oh. . .

"Hi. . . ?"

The female could only give what was best described as a demonic wail. Or at least would have, if the noise had not died instantly inside her hurting throat. Thereby reducing the woman to mere pathetic keening sounds.

The man merely gave a nonchalant shrug and lit up a pipe, wondering what she was so shocked about.

* * *

><p>Fate thrashed her body against unseen restraints, heart raging wildly against her weak ribcage as instinct brung two clasped fists to pound lightly against her out of control chest, fighting to regulate it back to normal. She arched her back as she coughed violently for a good minute, gasping and wailing for desperately needed air. Gravity taking it's icy grip on her, it forced her spasming body back down to the bed as her mind frantically tried to focus upon saving her own shell. But it was all for naught as she slowly lost control of the limbs, now nothing more than limp crippled appendages beside her naked body. Left with no choice but to endure the pure pain, she instead focused upon breathing, but she soon found that to be difficult as well. She gasped twice more before her lungs failed to function completely, leaving her with the unending beat of her raging heart. Her vision becoming blurry and entire body growing numb, Fate closed her eyes as she drifted off into the unknown.<p>

. . .Then she snapped open her eyes and was alive again.

Placing a hand to her throbbing head, Fate gave a pained moan as she stiffly lifted herself from the covers of the bed. Glancing sideways to see it was already daylight, she merely gave a heavy sigh as she pulled her knees to her damp chest. Opting to hide her face against her legs, she buried her vision as her exhausted mind tried so hard to collect the scattered thoughts and feelings her raging heart was forced to endure. Closing her eyes to focus, the girl reached no answer as she tried her hardest to call back anything which happened. Only faint memories of pain, a burning fire inside her, and eventually a numb cold abyss.

Dammit.

That dre-, no, nightmare. Why did it always happen? Why was it her? And moreso...

Why had it felt so. . . real?

Deciding it would be detrimental to her mind if she brooded like a dummy, she threw the covers off her body, which thankfully wasn't nude, and proceeded to head over to the shower. Not even bothering to knock, her hand grasped the handle and pulled...

"Oh! Fate~~~!"

. . . . . .

And promptly closed the door.

Walking back to her bed, the girl simply collapsed face first against the soft material to bemoan her fate and brood some more. It was the most sensible option.

Or she would have, if she hadn't found a pair of strong masculine arms picking her up by the waist.

"Com'on, Fate. Up!"

The girl blatantly shook her head a furious no. "Screw it, let me cry."

The only response was an even stronger lift to head height, the male carrying Fate like an oversized claymore as he balanced the girl by her stomach. The resultant unequal pressure of a female's squishy belly against a male's made of iron shoulder was quite significant, and thus caused Fate a measure of discomfort as she was carried around like a fun sized doll.

"What do you want?"

The man simply gave a low chuckle, jerking his side so that Fate was lifted into the air and impacted his shoulder at a reasonable velocity. Enough for the girl to give a squeal of slight pain.

"I want you, Fatester~."

Rolling her eyes at the nickname she had been blessed with, Fate's lips opened to give an unimpressed imitation of a laugh. "Funny stuff my good man... now let me go."

"No."

What?

Had he just. . . denied her request?

She tried again only to fail a second time. And a third time. By the time Fate had ordered the man a fourth time, her arms were uselessly beating against his back, trying to force him to let her down. She hissed, shouted, and even played a damsel in distress, claiming that a evil demon had come to have it's way with her body and suck out her soul.

It was too bad that one: Nobody believed her. Two: Even if they did, the very mention of eldritch abominations sent people running for the hills. And three: said Eldritch Abominations were long gone and dead.

That or it could be that their location was practically a lonely inn and the only people there at the moment were no other than this man and she.

Realizing that resistance was futile, Fate merely gave a pout and opted to fume for the rest of the way.

* * *

><p>"Wow. . ."<p>

He only gave a small smirk, waiting the girl for continue.

"This is. . . perfect."

He now gave a satisfied laugh to particularly nobody, although he was quite proud of himself for having chosen a good location.

"If you're gonna ask how I knew about this, I spotted it out while you were still asleep."

His steady gaze now saw the girl turn a one eighty to face him, face a bit flustered and chest withdrawn. Classic red handed act of pretending not to care.

"J-Just luck, that's all! Beginners luck!"

He just gave a soft laugh, smirking and curling his lips up. . . exactly like a lion.

If there was a caravan, Fate would have ran for it.

The man's hand rummaged into his coat pocket before pulling out a necklace and tossing it to the girl.

She barely caught the trinket as half of it's chain threatened to slip out from her grasp. Cupping her left hand with her right, she opened her fingers to see the present inside.

Fate paled as soon as she saw it.

Refocusing her gaze back upon the male, she struggled to find the correct words but failed miserably as her body suddenly felt stamped out in a cold press.

"I. . . I-. . . fu-fuweh. . ."

The older man simply gave the younger girl that lion's smile again.

* * *

><p>Fate started the fine adjustments needed to make her trick work, running the complex alchemical and mathematical equations in a constant loop as she reran her chances over and over again. Coming to a maximum chance, the girl focused her mind and calmed it down, letting all of the residual energy of her surroundings go silent. It gathered and formed into a single intensely focused bolt contained magicka, waiting to be unleashed.<p>

"Keep count for me okay, Blood?"

The sword resting upon her chest complied with a "Yes sir."

Taking a slow steady breath and releasing it halfway, Fate closed her eyes as she released her bolt of magicka with a simple skyward lift of her right arm. Faster than any human eye could see, the bolt launched itself into the sky with extreme force as it climbed altitude. Quickly kicking a stray dagger into the air, the girl now directed the bolt as it changed direction to rocket straight back to her location. Now faintly aware of where the falling dagger was, she directed her single bolt to strike it. The bolt blasted into the metal weapon, quickly rendering it slightly bent and largely useless as a weapon now. But it didn't stop there as Fate again directed her bolt to strike it once more. And another strike.

"Ten, fourteen, nineteen, twenty one, twenty eight. . ."

Soon, she was aware of nothing but the dagger itself as her senses automatically cancelled out any other residual noises, save her sword's counting and the impact of the magicka bolt striking the dagger over and over again.

"Seventy-five. Eighty. Eighty-six. Ninety."

As Blood counted down the last ten, Fate eased up and slowed down the cyclic impacts of her scores.

"Ninety-nine."

She opened her eyes and sent her bolt a little stray from her normal flight pattern as the now destroyed dagger hung for less than a second in the chilling air before it started to fall.

Now was her chance.

Fate sent the bolt at two-thirds of it's maximum speed and intercepted it, sending the blade the east instead of merely suspending it in mid-air. The battered metal spun end over end before finally hitting the corner of a pail and falling to the side.

"D'awwww. I didn't get it."

The girl frowned, a little disappointed that she had failed to score the rendered thing into it's goal. Sighing, she walked over to pick up the what was leftover and simply dropped it by hand into the pail. Giving an uncertain upturn of her lip, her hands gently lifted the now miniaturized version of her weapon, cradling it in her palm.

"How do you think I did today, Blood?"

"It was a fine performance, Meister. A little different than I expected, but a good pattern never the less."

Fate gave a smile to her empathetic weapon and giggled in thanks.

"Come on. Let's get some rest."

* * *

><p>A pair of faint glowing eyes glared from the distance, silently observing the pair in silent revulsion. If it could have killed the other two in it's state right now, it would have, but currently, it just simply did not have the means nor time to at the moment. The events from those years ago had sapped it's strength considerably with no chance to recover. Everytime it had happened, it had constantly weakened it. Now it was to the point it simply could not risk another incident like that.<p>

Hence which was why it felt the pure disgust right now.

Glaring eyes narrowed slightly as they watched the pair happily reiterate the days past and muse upon what the future held for them.

Upon their muses of the future, a wicked grin made itself upon unseen lips.

It knew those two would be forever star crossed.

Deciding that the minute observation was enough for now, eyes vanished as it decided to relocate elsewhere. It had far more important matters to attend at hand.

* * *

><p>Fate finished the preparations of clothing the last bit of herself as her fist pulled upon the leather strap and looped it through the buckle, securing the carry all belt tightly against her lithe waist. Doubling over her attire's pockets to see if they were secure and necessarily filled with the correct gear, the girl gave herself a pat down to ensure she was ready. Nothing was feeling out of place or uncomfortable, so it did for now. Giving the now small daringly cute version of Blood a gentle tap to rouse him and inquire if he was ready as well, Fate received a positive as her hands now started to reach for the scarf she had set aside. The girl's small hands wrapped the long piece of cloth around her neck, effectively hiding most of her mouth and more importantly, her necklace, from any prying eyes. Her recently booted feet took her to the exit of the inn and hands opened the door in the wall to reveal the chilling outside world. Itself absolutely beautiful, but deadly at the same time. The girl was about to close the door without a second thought, but caught herself as her alert gaze spotted something in plain view. A gentle smile made it's way to her features as she gingerly clicked the door shut, her view having never left the object until it disappeared from her vision completely.<p>

Upon the table was a simple handwritten note.

_Thank you for the comfort, whoever you were. . ._

* * *

><p>Notes: Fourth chapter done. Here's a huge thank you to "Whiffles" and "Culeba del Sol", who have given me the courage to push on with this story. And for those wondering why I made this a short "romantic comedy" fluff, it's simply because I was late on my Valentine's Day deadline for this chapter. That and I somewhat wanted a break from multiple viewpoints and the brooding ominous atmosphere this fiction seems to be headed toward. After all, it isn't a Soul Calibur story if it doesn't have some Big Bad or every single fighter being the Chosen Ones in it.<p>

The fifth chapter will be a non scripted random encounter. Honest.


	5. The First Patrol

Commentary: So here's a totally non scripted encounter for you guys. Honest. I lost the original write of this chapter, so this is my rewrite here, which is actually much closer to the the original scene I had played out in my head. Hope you enjoy the massive magicka barrage and urban warfare in this chapter.

Summary: A routine patrol sets the events in motion and brings back past wounds for two old hands. At the same time, the fate of a single soul is sealed by a lost ancient art which was lost to time two decades ago.

* * *

><p><strong>The White Devil<strong>

Act I Part V: The First Patrol (Rewrite)

* * *

><p>"Alright Schwazwind, let's stop here for the day."<p>

Commander Siegfried paid heed to make his unit stop and rest for the remainder of the day. If his estimations were correct, they had traveled to the very edge of the Holy Roman Empire's borders within three days. And with his intimate knowledge of the weather conditions, it was to be an exceptionally cold night when nightfall hit. So, him being a natural leader, had ordered his troops to make shelter and prepare the kitchen mess for the daily meal. The commander had also taken note of the terrain and placed watchmen upon the crest of a hill, giving a good open view for kilometers, while the thicket of the woods would serve as an excellent ambush position.

It was especially important since the "Avisa Relation oder Zeitung" had given reports of the Azure Knight in the immediate area.

Siegfried would take no chances.

"Liebe?"

Hilde.

The man gave a casting glance toward his wife and second in command and immediately picked up her worried expression. The young woman's face was a maelstorm of uncertainty, her eyes holding a motherly worry and great concern for something apparent. Siegfried Schtuaffen, the ever knowing commander he was and supporting husband to his right hand, placed a warm hand upon her capeleted shoulder, silently knowing her to speak her mind freely. The Major herself took a passing glance to the rest of her troop and clenched her iron clad hand after a moment's worth of contemplation.

Taking a breath in the chilled air, Hilde opened her lips to speak.

"Viola told me she had vision of where an encampment got attacked by a magic user like herself. But what she told me, the magic was more like high explosives or bullets. To the point where it was heavy fire. And then she saw one person go down in a bloody heap."

A pause of silence. Hilde averted her gaze from her husband to look back upon the caravan, the majority of whom now joyfully sharing hot meals and dug out holes for make shift shelter. Looking at all of the joy, her troops and volunteers alike, Hilde could not help but think that some of them would be gone if Viola's vision was correct.

"Liebe... you don't think?"

xvx

How could she have been so stupid?

It looked innocent enough. Just a simple ghost town long lost to the winds and snow of time. Ripe enough for her to have waltzed right in and take whatever her heart's content was. And so, like any natural solitary wanderer, she had. Taken pieces of eight and still fresh food out of a recently abandoned camp. And just an hour ago, she had been hard at work at lockpicking the master lock to what seemed to be the town's local armory. Weapons meant defensive means and a possible pawn to make a little extra gold. She had expected it to be a tough one to pick.

What she hadn't expected was the fact it had been pre-trapped. The door had literally exploded on top of her, stunning her entire body and mind into a hurricane of shearing vision and blown out hearing. When she had recovered, she realized her incredibly unbalanced footsteps had taken her outside to where a group of petty bandits had awaited her. Unable to pick any other option, her shaking hands had drawn the only weapon available to her.

A crimson dim gaze laid a cold unfeeling stare next to the body, now missing a head and the blood having long since stopped flowing.

Gloved fingers curled weakly around her weapon, which flashed back it's glowing core in kind. With nothing but the cold bloody snow and dim night to keep them company, an emotionless voice whispered out an unheard title.

A shuddering breath was taken in- was it hurting now? -before bloodstained lips gasped for a damage assessment.

The weapon in her hand paused for a few seconds, then recited it's report.

It mentally notified her she had taken heavy damage to her right ventricle, a left lung was completely deflated, the ribs were shattered at third and fourth levels, extensive pulmonary bruising, flail chest segment, snapped sternum, heavy internal bleeding and bruising with inflammation setting in. A heartbeat later and it added that her right thigh and left eye were completely shattered beyond normal means of repair. Good news was there didn't seem to be any type of shock.

Yet.

There was a heavy tension silence as the wielder absorbed and took the words in. Her mind knew her body's physical condition wasn't in good shape. In fact, the rational side of her had been mind blown at how she was still talking, much less giving out clear orders to the sentient weapon she grasped.

As an afterthought, her weapon reported she had an arrow in her knee.

She would have cracked a joke, but was too delirious to think up of a snark.

Heaving a weak sigh, the dying person's head turned to look up at the sky. Just now, a weakened but still raging heart could not help but feel a pang of regret upon seeing the many stars in the night sky. Seeing as the body had gone numb, her mind was now strangely focused in them, an odd fixation of curiosity having made it's way into her. Previously, she would not have bothered with star gazing, it simply was not an area of interest for her at all in her life. But now that she had found her physical form shattered, her mind felt oddly at peace. Yet... but yet. . .

A dimmed dazed eye lidded slightly in a rather soft disappointment.

Another moment of silence. The cold biting wind whistled in the distance, chilling an already numbed body even further to curl up into a barely warmthed core. Hearing having returned to normal, acute senses picked up the smell of hot food and the joys of people conversing in the distance.

Her raging heart knotted up in a despair she never knew existed. With that despair came pain. With pain, came empty loss. With that came an odd disappointment. It felt neither overwhelming nor joyful. Yet it was simply felt right. And just for a moment, the shattered remnants of her mind imagined a smile and an acceptance for everything that someone had given her.

It gave her a strength she never knew she had.

Speaking in an even calm voice, the girl ordered her weapon to perform a repair.

The weapon's core glowered in protest, concerned for the well-being of it's wielder.

Another weak but gentle squeeze hushed any further protest. Followed by a desperate plead.

The weapon in her hand went silent, torn in between choosing the desperate repair or to hopefully wait out rescue. It knew they both were hundreds of meters out and in no such condition to even crawl for help. The wielder did not know it, but her weapon linked with her for a reason. Currently, it was doing all it could to prevent her from going into shock and death. She did not know it, but it was sharing it's very soul with her own, connecting them as one. If they could have just waited it out and...

_Partner..._

Rusted out threads slowly slipped into the cuts of a limp arm.

xvx

So Viola's vision had not come true. That was the good news. The bad news was that Z.W.E.I. had come back from a routine patrol in the middle of the night and claimed he had picked up the heavy scent of human blood some several hundred meters away, near an abandoned town. Even worse, the swordsman described the blood scent as "too tainted for even him to handle". That obviously meant Soul Edge and it's wielder had been in the area. Viola even couldn't feel the evil sword's presence anymore.

Still, it never hurt to check.

Commander Schtauffen gave a knowing smile to his wife, draping his arms over her shoulders as if he would do to his children. The Major returned the gesture in kind as she prepared to see off the small ten man band they had formed at the crack of dawn.

The first patrol of the journey.

Serzhant Meyo was currently busy at the task of explaining to the rest of his small team how they would go into the abandoned town in two person teams, each covering the other with their state of the art wheellock pistols and even engaging in close quarters combat if necessary. They were to dump packs and travel light, taking only one spare pouch of flint and ball with them.

"We take this nice and slow. Remember, Soul Edge might be still around, so stay sharp and keep your heads on point. If that bastard shows up, I repeat, do not engage. Instead, you are to fall back and report to Schwarzwind. Alles Kra?"

The rest of the men nodded.

Meyo turned his head toward Hildegard von Krone, a confident determined look upon his normally relaxed features. The latter noticed something was now off about the man. He looked too serious. Too grim and now suddenly looking so much older than his normally bright cheery expression he held about ninety percent of the time. Hilde wondered if she should replace the veteran as a team leader for someone else when Meyo's voice snapped her out of the trance.

"What? Is my face too handsome for it to be lady killer, ma'am?"

Ha. Always the wise crack.

"Permission approved Serzhant. Get back here in one piece, all of you."

"Eyes Major!"

Without any fanfare or general divisional ceremony, the small patrol headed out to the area of operations. Within seconds, they had reached the edge of the thicket of forest which hid the town opposite from view and disappeared one by one.

Major Hilde had an uneasy feeling that things would turn out wrong.

xvx

Nearly frozen over hands gripped the part of a broken arrow and pulled it out with a sickening splotch. A low hiss escaped from frozen lips as a propped up body dragged itself against the wall to support it's dead weight. A reeling mind, totally dazed and disoriented from the seemingly endless night, struggled to make sense of where she was and what happened to her. She tried to focus but instead was rewarded with a sudden searing pain. White hot knives and what felt like living worms invaded her very flesh, burning it from the inside out as her back arched in a reflexive spasm. Screwed up visions assaulted her worn out mind, threatening to drive her insane from all the intensity. Blood, massive pain, a limpness and a warmth she could not recall. The deep calming warmth of what felt like an essence flowing into her. She experienced everything all over again as the massive explosions returned to her, racking her body over again with untold amounts of pain, followed by the sudden numbness of her entire body, and then one last push of warmth.

She vaguely remembered a mix of cold steel and warm flesh touching her cheek.

Slowly, a crimson orb opened to the world.

Vision blurring for a scant few seconds, a free hand held out in front of her to refocus her vision to the outside. Once readjusted, a confused slow gaze scanned the surroundings she'd found herself in. She found a mess of bodies and innards strewn all over the immediate area, one cleaved in two and another beheaded cleanly.

She noted that she never beheaded.

"Gods... remind me not to do that again."

The sword in the girl's hand gave a glower of it's core, obviously very unhappy as it berated her.

She held out a hand to hush her weapon, placing a gentle finger on it's core.

"I know, I know."

As much as her current weak strength could muster, she brought the weapon up to her chest, gently giving it a squeeze as she physically pressed it against her ample bosom. Making sure not to lose grip on her empathetic forged steel, she brought her arms up and over the sides in an awkward imitation of a hug. The girl drew her good leg closer to her main body, securing the handle against her lap.

"Sorry for makin' you worry, love."

The sword didn't reply for a few seconds, whether it be from the sheer awkwardness of a girl embracing her weapon like a lover or the simple fact that he could feel the tempting deep warmth her breasts held. Eventually, the weapon decided it was both and simply decided to keep silent and somewhat enjoy the comfort his wielder provided. The alluring warmth of her motherly flesh, combined with the gentle pulsing of her raging heart, served to link them both together as two minds relaxed to solely focus on each other.

Quietly, they reflected upon a blurry past. The wielder remembered not much. Only white, blood, and death, followed by a cold numbness and acceptance. For an odd morbid reason, she wanted to remember the lost memories. The servant, by contrast, wished not to remember. But the images he could see were clear as day. Remembering each and every soul slain simply to sate an endless world hunger. It had collected more memories, more emotions, more of a conscious. More guilt.

Ironic how it had come to this.

They both remembered the words of someone who had spoken long ago.

Residual magicka rippled through out the blade as the blood continued to drip from his master's wounds, absorbed upon direct contact the enhanced forged steel. Ever so slowly, the droplets shrank and disappeared from view upon immediate contact with the metal, which now had a soft reddish hue to it.

"Hey. Doesn't this..." the female voice softly noted, shifting her body to better secure the weapon closer to her, "Remind you of something?"

Not wanting to move from his soft living warmth, the living weapon only gave a muffled moan against her enclosed jacket. The short tone relayed to the girl that he didn't know what was talking about. The young woman simply gave a gentle smile to her weapon, placing a scuffed hand on its blue jewel.

"The sky, I mean."

She turned her head up toward the skies and for a moment, saw the clouds part before her. As if she was flying.

"Often times, I feel like I can fly. Actual flying mind you. Not that... odd contraption that everyone marveled at. It feels like heaven. To see the entire earth below you, vast and untainted. Feel the wind dancing as it parts against your body. And that breathtaking rush when you realize, "This is how birds must feel.". It's... absolutely beautiful."

Her warm gaze shifted from the blue sky to the core of her weapon, studying it's features and staring back at her mirrored reflection. She was about to speak to it again before she realized her hearing had picked up a crunching she had not noticed before. And not only that, it seemed to be getting closer.

Somebody was here and from what the girl could pick up, they sure didn't seem like a welcoming party.

Vaguely, she picked up the bark of a military order in the distance.

Left hand gripping the handle of her living weapon, she unsteadily rose to her feet as the weapon firmly planted itself on the heavy snow to support her dead weight. Her body was exhausted from the events of last night and had yet to recover full vitality, but her determined mindset was more than enough to make up for it.

She pushed through the doorway of the high tower and started to make her ascent.

xvx

Serzhant Meyo and his men knew they had stumbled upon a bad part of the day once they found the other footprints in the snow leading to the abandoned town. Even worse, it seemed that some had tried to run away from something, if their dead bodies were of any indication. That and the light fog which had yet to clear up from the morning dew did not help. As a result, the leader had been forced to bunch up his men close and tight to watch for any unusual activity. Or any sign of the evil sword.

"Hey Serzhant! I think I got something over here!"

Meyo held out a hand to his men to stop them and signaled them to split up against the nearby opposite ends. Half took cover against a empty chicken coop, while the other had their luck with a broken wall of solid stone. Cold steady gazes scanned for any trace of the evil sword and it's wielder, also keeping in mind that the dead bodies from before had been confirmed as lowly bandit thugs. And the patrol knew there would be reinforcements nearby.

"What is it, Schtuze?"

The low ranked soldier only gave a wordless point ahead to him, his face obviously pale white and appearing sick.

Meyo's eyes widened slightly, his heart rate increasing as his surprised gaze took in the complete slaughter of the mass of bodies slain. One had been stabbed straight in the chest, still alive when he had went down, the hands clawing at his torn leather vest frozen forever. Another had been bisected in half from the waist down, a long stream of guts in front of the man as his hands also tried to pull his own insides back to him. Many others had slashes and various limbs missing, left to simply die from agonizing blood loss. But what clearly stood out from them all was the remains of what once had been a single person, now completely cut from head to groin in two grisly pieces. The fact that the remains only footprints was now a few feet away from the halves of the body, made it very clear to Meyo that the man had been the first victim.

Killed where he had stood.

Scanning the mass slaughter for any sign of recent activity, his alert eyes picked up a single path of footsteps which looked to be disturbed by what looked to be blade of a sword. Suddenly feeling uneasy, Meyo wordlessly unsheathed his own sword and planted the tip of the blade in the snow, looking back toward the footsteps.

It was a perfect match.

Gritting his teeth in grim anticipation, the Serzhant signaled the rest of his patrol back and gave out the immediate order for action.

"Lock and load gentlemen."

xvx

Off-whites bit down upon a bloodied lip as a heightened alert gaze scoped out the men below her. As soon as she had saw their regalia, her mind had correctly concluded these men were no ordinary bandits or mercenaries. The way they moved, their snappy uniforms, and the way they talked had brought back vague memories that she soon wanted to forget. She wasn't stupid. Her mind knew how soldiers like them worked. They would continuously scan the place to look for the culprit, which had been her, and then kill her without any mercy in the name of justice.

Pushing down the heavy feelings which threatened to shut her mind down from full function, the girl gave a silent nod to the weapon in her hands. It's core blinked back in a mutual agreement, knowing there wouldn't be a way out of this. A human eye closed for a few heartbeats, each resounding thump active as her senses felt lighter and more focused. When she had reopened her eye, a soft light and various illegible inscriptions of magic runes danced across her vision. They died off as all that was left was a simple triangled cross-hair mark to assist her aim.

She only needed to make them retreat, not kill them.

Taking aim at near one of the men by a barrel, she lined up the cross-hairs and started to draw the residual magicka out of the air...

xvx

Jackson and Willi were both inseparable friends, forged from their mercenary travels and bond of the legendary Schwarzwind Landsknecht. So when the order had been given, they both volunteered to be part of the first patrol. To soldiers like them, it was an honor to undertake the first patrol of a great adventure. They had heard of the legend of the Sword of Salvation. The power to grant it's wielder unlimited power. What they also had been informed, was that it was also pure evil in weapon form. It was rather fitting, considering that mankind had and always would be shaped by neverending warfare well long after they would die. It was even more fitting that the sword needed a host body to be truly active in order to instigate mass murders and wreck hell upon the innocent Eurasian country side.

And it would by natural that heroes would pop up to stop the sword in it's tracks.

They had expected swordplay and weaponry to be involved, a classic tale of knights in shining armor against rusted blackened azure and fires of pure evil. How all their other journeys had become when trying to stop the evil sword.

What Jackson and Willi had not expected was the ground in front of them to literally explode by an unseen force.

And the illusion of everything they had known was shattered.

A split second scream was heard as hearing went completely deaf, the powerful concussion of the explosion having blown out their eardrums, replacing any audible sound with a consistent high pitched ringing. Jackson scrambled for cover as did his buddy Willi, the both of them jumping over a nearby wall to hide their forms from whatever had attacked them. The two men looked over themselves to check for any wounds, somewhat relieved when all they had found was snow and dirt all over their intact forms. But whoever had attacked them was still out there.

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"I don't know! It just exploded right in front of me!"

Vaguely, they barely heard a shout of "Fire!" before the blast of gunshots rang out nearby. A still disoriented Willi looked up to see in the direction where the rest of the men were...

Jackson noticed and shouted for him to get down, but it was too late.

The other man paid for it as the wall just inches from his head exploded with the force of a cannon shot.

xvx

Serzhant Meyo felt his mind reel and heart stop as soon as he saw the blast which had very likely taken out two of his point men. He had recognized the style right away. But there wasn't any way it could be true. His old unit had been wiped out and lost, with him being one of few survivors. Just how...

A desperate pleading cry broke the leader from his thoughts.

Shit. Jackson and Willi!

He now had to get the two pinned down men to safety and back to base camp. With the explosion he had seen, if he was right...

There would be no way for them to survive if they stood their ground.

"Second squad, provide cover fire for first squad! 1st squad, get our wounded back to safety! All units will fall back to camp! Schwarzwind, we are leaving!"

Pulling back the cock on his wheel-lock, Meyo fired it at the direction where he thought the blast had come from. Once the mess of thick white smoke had cleared, his gaze caught sight of a lone figure flinch from a nearby sentry tower with a broken roof.

Gotcha.

"Focus all fire on the tower with the caved in roof!"

xvx

She flinched as the shot had grazed her right arm, which instantaneously taken out a sizable chunk of her flesh as the soft lead round literally flattened upon impact. Blood now splattered on the old wooden floor as her arm gushed out fluid from the wound. Soon, the continual spray was staining and streaking her entire torso, ruining her once clean attire in a highly visible crimson.

Just like the bone of her sword.

The female gave a grim chuckle as the wound kept leaking her very lifeblood. In a few seconds, her mind felt slightly unbalanced and woozy, the main effect of the massive loss having registered to her brain as it required more oxygen rich blood to keep it functioning. The soft lights of her auto-tracking crosshairs flickered before her vision, the sudden shock of the wound and loss of life fluids redirecting the magicka she captured in the air to more critical functions. She vaguely was aware of several blurs as her vision distorted into double afterimages, sounds of cracks peppering the wall of the floor she had taken space in.

Then, the pain finally set in.

Almost screaming at the awareness of loss of flesh, she felt her nerve endings fire constant unending streams of messages which registered absolute mind shattering pain. She tried to move her damaged arm but it was now more than dead weight as the crippled limb went numb.

A raging heart spiked upon the loss of feeling as her hazed mind remembered the warm glow of something tapping her face.

Her good eye widening in surprise at the remembrance, the female tried to recall upon it again, but to no avail as another lead bullet found it's mark.

This one ripping into her stomach and painting her insides all over the wall.

The girl gave a small cough as her entire body gave out, her legs buckling from her main weight as she fell to her knees. Her entire magicka reserve pool now vanished into a mere passive mode as her body struggled to self repair the massive damage done. Vision saw the crosshairs die completely and in her hazed state, could do absolutely nothing to defend herself. Either she was going to take another bullet, this time killing her outright, or slowly bleed out from the massive wound.

_"This is it, isn't it, partner?"_

No. A silly wound such as this? Tis only a flesh wound! There wasn't any way she would die. Yet. Gnashing her teeth together and summoning up from the deepest parts of her raging heart and linker soul, a last stand willed the flow of her main magicka to refocus itself upon the critical area where the bullet had ripped out more than half her bowels. A soft weak glow emanated from the area, the lines of patterns now scrawling themselves just above her open wound. With audible shriek, a complex magic circle had now blinked into existence above the rendered flesh, as if protecting it with a barrier. It was only a prelude to what was to come next.

With a murmur of a mutual feeling, her gaze set out to the distance as her mind calculated once more. Her good hand gave a squeeze to the sword and it complied her immediately, core glowering as it recited the next words.

xvx

The patrol had instantly froze upon hearing a high pitched whistling noise coming from behind them. At first, they thought they were simple arrows fired by their unknown attacker. But then they realized their attacker had no sign of any arrows fired from that broken tower, just strange bolts which had been way too fast for the human eye to see. Suspecting the worst, the men had turned all at once to see if some fired bolts had tracked them down.

What they actually saw was much worse.

"Oh shit! What the hell is that?"

"No time, down! Fucking down!"

No sooner had the words escaped one of their mouths, did their world turn completely upside down as the heavens trembled and the very ground exploded into a spectacular display of super heated dirt and chunks of ice. They had expected the explosions to stop, but they only continued in a hellish display of ear piercing concussion waves and consecutive blasts. The fact the patrol was trapped in open ground on the border of the woods only made things so much worse, as most of the explosions tore apart trees with impunity, creating shards of lethal shrapnel that would mess anybody's day up if they hit. Vision practically nil, the men of the Schwarzwind patrol could only hug the ground as close as they could and pray to whatever deity they had worshiped to save them from this hell.

And then as soon as it had started, the last explosion finally resounded off into the distance, blasting a tree apart from it's base. The wood made an strange groan as it collapsed from the weight, crashing with a crack as it impacted the earth for the first and last time.

The eerie silence which followed set the men's nerves on hair's end, their minds running on automatic and hearts clenched in complete paralyzing fear as they waited. And waited. And waited. Time was meaningless to them as they wondered what would happen. But nothing did happen. No whistling death. No explosions. Nothing.

Slowly, a hand raised up and gave the all clear. A shaken but still powerful voice requested status reports from the rest of the men. Ten shouts of various degrees confirmed they were still alive and accounted for.

Serzhant Meyo helped Schtuze Willi up as the latter knocked a tree branch off his body, dusting his now battered uniform off fragments of freshly chipped pine and oak. Jackson, Willi's team buddy and best friend, now strolled up to the other two. He couldn't help but give a sly grin as he congratulated his friend for taking a facefull of stone and now an entire barrage of shredded tree fragments, all without so much as a scratch.

"God Willi. You lucky bastard!"

The young man only gave a nervous sheepish chuckle. "Lucky me? More like you've always been there to save me, Jackson."

Jackson just gave a grin to his friend, slapping his shoulder in camaraderie. "Next time I might not be there to watch out for you, Willi. You big crybaby!"

Meyo immediately told the two other men to can their conversation for later, they still were not out of the woods yet. Literally and figuratively. If their attacker had that much range, then another barrage was imminent.

Jackson gave another cheerful laugh, his spirits lighting up as the heaviness of the situation was lifted from his shoulders. The man decided to quip a joke as he spread his arms out, imitating the the long service of Schwarzwind.

"Come on Serzhant! We are Schwarzwind! We're invincible against anything! We've survived Soul Edge multiple times! We've survived it's army of darkness. We have survived the edge of Ragnarok! And we've survived this! There is no way Schwarzwind can lose!"

Not a second later, Jackson's blood splattered all over Meyo and Willi as a final bolt exploded just inches from his face.

xvx

The girl staggered and fell on a knee as she now supported her weight using the blade of her weapon, drained from the immense rush and strain the advanced magicka spell had placed on her body. Her good eye had observed the results of her handiwork and while the spell had been wildly inaccurate, the wide open area and the fact her targets had been close to the treeline helped to make up for it.

The area she targeted was now completely flattened, scorch marks and flames edging the craters her spell had created, while some had been outright vaporized and glassed. Trails of smoke drifted from the previously snow white field, which was now a sea of brimstone and scorched earth.

It was way more power than she actually meant to use, but it was enough.

There was no kill like overkill, after all.

Relieved that she had effectively neutralized the threat, the young girl shifted her wounded body as best she could to lean up against the now bullet hole ridden wall of the tower. Giving a soft sigh which did wonders to lift the weight of the world off her shoulders, her good remaining arm propped the blade of her sword against her chest again, feeling the resonating warmth which came from the blade. Closing her one good eye for a moment and opening her lips to take in a breath in an effort to relax, her gaze opened again as she stared off into the distance, the fine results of her spell still marring the earth.

"Think I overdid it a bit?"

The weapon pressed against her breasts gave a comforting pulse.

**[Don't worry, Fate Meister!]**

Fate gave another sigh, this one of irritation, as she drew up her good leg closer to her, coddling her weapon against her body.

"I thought I told you not to call me that."

Her sword simply gave another pulse of mischievous teasing, raising it's fiery warmth to an uncomfortably hot level for Fate's chest to bear, despite the cotton twill outfit she wore in the middle of winter. The girl merely propped the sword against her left shoulder instead, her very same hand unbuttoning the enclosure of her tunic to reach for the bloody wound she had been dealt.

"Can you repair them, partner?"

The core of her weapon blinked in response, giving an unseen frown to the slick smeared blood coating his master's entire torso. It saw through the wounds and detected no traces of the round inside her, having gone completely through.

**[Magicka repairs should take about ten minutes with no assistance, but with a H potion, it should take half that.]**

Fate made a pained grimace as she injected a vial of red fluid into her wounds, using half for each. She barely felt any warmth at all upon hitting bottom mark of the vial, pulling the hypodermic needle out and throwing it away out from her view.

"Okay. I've done that. What else?"

The weapon paused for a moment, thinking to include any other notes. **[All wounds are stable however and no longer bleeding. The emergency magicka you administered on your wounds are on standby. It only requires a catalyst to start. Do you wish to proceed, my Meister?]**

Without a single hesitance, Fate answered her implement of the Gods.

"Yes."

xvx

Major Hilde had paled once she had heard that inhuman noise of whistling death, shortly followed by the telltale burst of explosions in the distance. Reacting instantly to the disturbance, she immediately barked out the orders for a hastily made rapid reaction force to assemble and retrieve their lost patrol. Immediately, a good sized force of thirty men started to strap on full gear and grab whatever weapons they got their hands on. The shouts of a well oiled prepared force came full circle, promising natural justice on the cursed sword and all of them ready to rescue their lost patrol.

And then Serzhant Meyo had come out of the fog, screaming for a doctor.

"Sani! Sanitier! Jackson's hit! He's been hit!"

All former proud activity and shouts of justice came to a screeching halt. Instantaneously, Commander Siegfried had taken the helm and ordered his best field medics to rush out and put the doctors on standby if they needed to operate. Within seconds, a folding table had been brought out and placed on one of the well lit areas, to where the sun could shine the most.

And then the patrol had come out of the fog, the team carrying a thrashing clearly bleeding body with much difficulty, the other five man team behind them as they shouted words of desperate encouragement to the panicking man in arms. Doubling it up, the team rushed over to the makeshift table and carefully placed his body there.

"Someone hold his legs!"

And so, someone, or rather multiple soldiers had to hold his entire body down. It was evident that the man had been panicking. So much so, that he had lost a considerable amount of blood and if he didn't calm...

"Jackson, come on! You're not gonna die! You're gonna be fine!"

Jackson's voice came out panicked, coughing and possibly choking on his own blood, his words completely unintelligible, but intent clear. The man gave a cry of pain as his mind blurred, emotions unable to register what happened. He tried to thrash more against the mass which held him down, but it only served to make him panic more. Serzhant Meyo shouted out orders for a medic to hurry up, all the while utterly lost himself. The others had gathered around the table, their words and shouts of desperate encouragement a world of blur as they tried to console the wounded man.

"He's gonna die, Major! He's gonna fucking die!" Willi had desperately cried to their second in command, on the verge of an complete breakdown as he could do nothing but watch helplessly as his friend who had been his first buddy upon his recruitment in the unit... Willi then shouted and raged to the heavens above, all in an instant, crying out and begging for forgiveness, in any manner to save his best friend.

Hilde prayed to God silently as she took little choice but to restrain Willi.

"Where the fuck is the medic, dammit?"

As if on cue, a female voice shouted and shoved through the mass of men as some cleared the way, while others had to be pulled aside. A young girl of no more than twenty, of fair skin, blue eyes, and bright blonde hair kept in a ponytail, rushed to her objective, armed with white dressings and wraps. She appeared beside the wounded Jackson and upon seeing him, almost stopped dead.

His face had been burned apart and there what looked to be fragmentation rips and tears running deep into his neck, although it was incredibly difficult to tell because of all the blood which had streaked all over his face. An eye had been completely ripped apart and there even was a small tear which exposed a portion of his skull.

She noted these wounds...

A sudden shake brought the young girl back to reality. "Misuzu! Help him!"

The girl named Misuzu nodded and started to inspect the panicking man for any deep wounds, administering bandages around his more obvious head wound while doing so. Or tried to, if he would stop moving. To a medic like her, it was critical that he should stop his panicking. Otherwise, his body would enter shock.

"Jackson! I need you to calm down! I'm not gonna be able to help if..." Another panicked thrash, this time a small grunt as a boot smashed into a man's face. Misuzu then furrowed her eyebrows together and forcefully held Jackson's head in a vice grip, forcing the man to stare directly at Misuzu's gaze.

Everyone had calmed down to give the doctor and her patient some space. Willi and some others were still crying, but their fear had died down slightly and the rest of the men who had formerly surrounded Jackson to give him words of encouragement now had dispersed. Leaving Misuzu and Jackson alone.

The medic's soothing voice said, "Shhh. That's good. Look at me, Jackson. Look at me. Good. You're doing good..." Her gaze tried to look for any deep wounds but it was simply too dark. Without skipping a beat, she ordered one of the men to give a light. Having a pre-perpared torch ready, a flint lit the wrapped wood and held it near Jackson's head. Misuzu's eyes focused and she now could see the extent of the damage done.

"Get the doctor over here."

Upon those words, Jackson teared up and lamented, unintentionally panicking even more.

"I don't wanna die! I dun wanna..."

"Jackson dammit!" cried out Misuzu, her hand now trying to hold the man's head still. "You're not gonna die! You're not gonna die!"

At those words, she felt something give in the man's neck.

No...

"You're gonna be fine!"

Jackson was now reducing to choking and sputtering, unable to form any words as he desperately tried to do whatever it took to deny what had happened. In a matter of seconds, he gave one final cough and gurgle, his limbs twitching weakly as the blood poured out of his mouth.

"Jackson!"

Misuzu now felt the cold warmth of his blood run down her hand, staining her locked grip on the man as she tried to register what happened. Unable to come to a conclusion, she stared into Jackson's eyes. Before she finally realized the truth.

Misuzu tore her numb gaze away from the unseeing orbs and slowly looked at the others of Schwarzwind.

All their faces had the same look. Complete disbelief and mind numbing shock. And Willi...

Taking a shuddering breath, Misuzu walked over to one of the knights who had a blanket wrapped around him and numbly dragged it off his shoulders. The girl walked back over to the table, gripping the worn wool tightly with a downcast shamed gaze.

She was sure that the man's family would get letters saying he had died a hero in the journey to rid the world of the Soul Edge.

Instead, Jackson had died with the snow falling all around him while his friends could do nothing but look on helplessly.

He was just one more causality in a quest that was supposed to been over two years ago.

* * *

><p>Notes: And done with the rewrite. I'm a lot happier overall with this one, as it's a lot closer to my original intention. Some parts could have used some work, but overall, I think this will do. Also, this chapter is dedicated to an American hero who died on February 26th of 2012, 101st Airborne Easy Company Lt. "Buck" Compton. Rest in Peace with your band of brothers, sir.<p> 


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